


Like Syrup

by PrivateBi



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Autistic!Damien, Cuddling & Snuggling, Gen, snuggle! that! lizard!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 03:21:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16210343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrivateBi/pseuds/PrivateBi
Summary: Never in his life would Arum have imagined himself here, in this humble home, basking in the presence of a human companion. Indeed, he had frequently been known to scoff at the very idea of companionship. Now that he possessed that which he’d once disdained, he wondered how he could ever have been so foolish.





	Like Syrup

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Reader for helping with word play, thewiredgalaxy for beta reading, and for all the lovely peeps in the Penumbra Bang server for their friendship and inspiration. Y'all make me wanna keep creating <3

Arum took up the entire sofa by himself, stretching out his long legs and pillowing his head on one pair of arms. He gazed upward at the underside of the hut’s thatched roof, but his attention lay with the sound of Amaryllis busily tidying her workbench. Glass vials clinked against one another in her hands, the fabric of her long skirt swished. Sweet snatches of songs made their way from her lips to his ears as she hummed through her work, unaware of the rapt attention her companion was paying to the domestic serenade. Never in his life would Arum have imagined himself here, in this humble home, basking in the presence of a human companion. Indeed, he had frequently been known to scoff at the very idea of companionship. Now that he possessed that which he’d once disdained, he wondered how he could ever have been so foolish.  
As he listened, the door creaked open, and the hut was immediately filled with Damien’s blustering. “Oh, my Rilla, I have done battle with the most savage of beasts today!” Listening closely, Arum could hear Amaryllis instinctively begin rummaging through drawers for a first-aid kit as he continued spinning his tale. “A hulking, terrible wolf, as big as a house! Its maw dripped with stinking, corrosive foam, which fell and scorched the very earth below!”  
“That does explain why your tunic seems to be melting,” interjected Amaryllis.  
There was a pause, and Arum could picture the way Damien must have looked down to inspect his clothing. “Ah. So it is. I’ll, uh, well I’ll just. What I mean to say is I’ll go and, erm, tend to that immediately.”  
“Throw it in the compost pile out back, there’s no saving it,” shouted Amaryllis, as Damien tore past Arum’s place in the den and slammed the back door behind him in his haste for the water bucket. There was a splash as he, presumably, tried to rinse off any acid that might have made its way onto his skin.  
Arum laughed fondly at the excitable knight’s antics, hissing through his teeth, but covered it up with a rattle when Amaryllis walked in. She greeted him with an impish smile.  
“What are you tktktk-ing at me for?” she said, making a humorous butchery of the sound. It wasn’t her fault, of course; her vocal cords weren’t structured properly for either rattling or hissing.  
“Do I need a reason? You certainly didn’t seem to need a reason for humming just now. That’s a comparable vocalization, is it not?”  
“Oh, so you were listening in on me, then?”  
He ruffled his frill, embarrassed. He hadn’t meant to let that slip, but he’d been drawn in by Amaryllis’s playful teasing. He claimed to be a master of traps, but time and time again Amaryllis had proven there was no game he could play at which she could not match him. The rattle bubbled up from his throat before he could stop it.  
“Tktktktktktktktktk…”  
Amaryllis’s laugh was clear as a bell. Her hair fell in waves around her face as she shook her head in pseudo exasperation. “You’re ridiculous sometimes, I swear.” In response, he spread out his frill more and crossed his second set of arms, playing up his petulant nature for her amusement. “Come on, Arum, you know I love it. Un-ruffle and make some room for me, will you? The moment Damien’s done fussing over that ruined tunic, he’ll be back to telling us today’s tale of daring-do. From where I’m standing, this seems to be the best seat in the house for it.”  
Arum shifted so his head rested on the arm of the couch, and arranged his arms so there was a place for Amaryllis beside him. She let herself fall onto the cushion alongside him, elegant in her lack of delicacy, and pillowed her head on his shoulder. He brushed back a strand of hair which had fallen in her face, and wrapped an arm around her. A possessive gesture, to be sure, but after all, she was his as much as he was hers. He was allowed to have this, to draw his claws tenderly over her soft skin, not to rend but to adore.  
“Someone’s feeling snuggly,”  
“That someone is you, seeing as you’re the one who decided to cozy up to me.”  
“Whatever you say, Arum.”  
Their flippant back-and-forth didn’t decrease the casual intimacy of the moment, and neither did Damien when he re-entered, free of his ruined shirt. For a moment, the sun from the doorway behind him illuminated his silhouette in gold. Rilla raised an eyebrow at Arum, having caught him staring, but only after tearing her own eyes away from their half-dressed fiance.  
Damien must have misinterpreted the meaning behind Arum’s lingering gaze, because he began to fidget nervously with his hands. “Arum! I know I’ve acted in a way entirely void of decorum since arriving home, and I do apologize most sincerely. I didn’t mean to ignore you - how could I ignore you, my lily, you draw the eye like the sun on water - but Rilla noticed my tunic was melting and suddenly my mind’s eye was filled with the imagined image of the monster’s terrible acid doing the same to my own flesh as it did to all else it touched, and so you must understand I had to run to avoid such a ghastly, gory outcome. Although I passed you by without a word, I did see you, and I know I should have said something but I - I…” He took a breath and seemed to recollect his thoughts for a moment. “The last thing in all the world I wish to do is to make you feel ignored or unloved, yet I fear that’s exactly what I’ve done. I am - I am sorry, my love.”  
“Don’t be.” said Arum, not sure how to make clear his sincere appreciation of the needless apology. Knowing that he was loved enough to merit such worry soothed insecurities he’d only recently discovered within himself. He still wasn’t ready to trust this feeling to the open air, so he carried on without confessing, trusting his emotions to be implicit no matter which words he chose. “I hardly think my ego is so fragile that you could damage it with a single slightly postponed greeting. Think nothing of it.”  
“But I…” started Damien, before closing his mouth and averting his eyes. He continued to slide his hands back and forth, one over the other. It became clear to Arum that his short response hadn’t been enough to quiet his irrational guilt.  
“Be still, little knight, and listen to me: if you ever hurt my feelings, I will tell you directly. I care about you deeply enough that I couldn't possibly do otherwise. Do you understand?”  
Damien nodded, and continued fidgeting, the delicate motions of his hands reminding Arum of nothing so much as a hummingbird.  
The tension that Damien constantly carried with him was beginning to permeate the mood of the room. Arum didn’t know what he could do to change that, so he was thankful when Amaryllis’s additional years of experience in that field showed themselves. She changed the subject.  
“Why don’t you come sit with us and finish the story you were telling?”  
Damien latched immediately onto the new thread of conversation. “Of course, and to think I’d nearly forgotten!” He perched himself on the arm of the couch, not quite relaxed yet.  
Well that won’t do, thought Arum. He extended a hand, inviting his fiancé to join him. When Damien took it, Arum pulled him in. He teetered on the arm of the couch for a second, before giving over to gravity and landing on top of him. A nervous laugh gave way to genuine mirth, before he quieted and situated himself, head resting on Arum’s chest, fingers entwined with Amaryllis’s. He smelled like the grass through which he’d been tramping all day, and he was gloriously warm. Holding him was like stepping out into summer sunshine.  
“Now then, where was I?” asked Damien, once he’d settled.  
“Something about a hulking, terrible wolf, as big as a house,” prompted Amaryllis, quoting Damien’s words from earlier.  
“Yes, of course! Its maw dripped with stinking, corrosive foam, which fell and scorched the very earth below!”  
The tale Damien spun was gripping and masterfully told; he’d never have let it see the light of day if it were anything less. But Arum found his attention drawn away from the story, and toward the way his partners felt in his arms. He’d long since grown accustomed to this sort of all-encompassing contact, and found that it’s appeal only grew with time.  
Damien’s full weight rested on Arum, and along with Amaryllis’s head on his shoulder it pushed him down into the cushions below, enveloping him in softness. Amaryllis had crossed an arm over his torso, reciprocating the way he held her close while at the same time giving Damien her hand. In turn, Damien drew his thumb back and forth softly over her knuckles, keeping time with the rhythm of Arum’s claws carding through his hair. The three of them moved like syrup, puddled together, sweet and warm.  
The fierce devotion Arum owed to the two humans holding him was unique to this pair, guarded jealously and given to no one else. He felt such love as a physical entity, opening up like petals in his chest. If either of his partners asked, he would pluck it out and lay it at their feet without hesitation. All he’d ask in return is that they keep holding him like this, surrounding him with their presence, reminding him that he need never be alone again.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun Fact: the working title for this piece was CUDDLE PUDDLE  
> You can find me on tumblr @ginnie-darling. In the immortal words of Aaron Mahnke: I like it when people say hi.


End file.
